Newton's Apple
by jamhoot
Summary: I'm finally updating after a month! For new readers, this is the story about our favourite agents as they chase a serial killer, with an uncanny ability to control motion. In the latest chapter, this killer's dad seems to possess his ability too.
1. Meet Nayle

NEWTON'S APPLE  
Jonathan Kotker  
  
(This story is fictional. Any resemblance with a person or object, living or not, is coincidental. Information about Warren is highly inaccurate and should not be taken seriously.)  
  
WARREN, RHODE ISLAND 28TH JANUARY 1994 7:55 PM  
  
Jachson Walmick looked up and down the mildly lit street. The roads were unusually empty for mid-evening, but then, it had always been a quite suburban town. Cicadas chirped in the distance. Many streetlights had been vandalized; the remaining streetlights emanated light that danced on the brick pavement. Vandalism was quite rampant . being a small town, Warren had to share its police force with the neighbouring city, and the police force was small. Being a small town, entertainment also was not given much impetus, hence vandalism. All these thoughts rushed through Walmick's head, but he was still proud that Warren boasted of some of the best Mechanics Engineering colleges in the country. Walmick was waiting at the bus stop after stopping off at one of his students' home. Now an established teacher at the Warren Newtonian Mechanics Engineering College, he was giving tuitions to students for a nominal fee. A noise erupted in the distance, causing Walmick to look to his left. A bus was coming towards the bus stop, a small blue bus, paint chipped off and one of the headlights broken - the light glaring out unrestricted. Shielding his eyes against the glare, Walmick waited for the bus to come to a stop. The bus screeched to a halt, particles of tarmac flying out from under the tyre - another problem worth looking at, Walmick thought, uneven roads. Walmick climbed onto the bus, strangely empty. The driver was staring ahead - not bothering to look at the new passenger (not that he had any, of course). Taking out the bus fee from a brown wallet, Walmick sat down on one of the brown leather seats, torn and frayed at places. The bus accelerated slowly, and Walmick looked at the trees and streetlights (vandalized or otherwise) rushing toward him, thinking of the hot bath and pizza that were awaiting him at his cosy one-bedroom flat. Suddenly, the bus started accelerating at a fast rate, snapping Walmick to attention. The bus was fast exceeding the accepted speed limit. He stood up to see what the driver was up to. He found himself very hard to balance at the rate the bus was moving. Slowly, wobblingly, he made his way to the driver's seat. "Hey, what are you up to over there? Don't you know we're going over the speed limit?" The driver remained silent. "Hello! Are you even listening to me?" The driver remained silent. Walmick, his temper rising steadily, clamped his hand on the shoulder of the driver, and twisted his neck around. He gasped in fear, for he knew that face. "Nayle?" he whispered, his mouth hanging open in a mixture of surprise and fear. That face, it was not the same as he once knew it. It had become white, the skin stretched taut over skull and bone, the mouth lipless. "Is you did to me, is I do to you", it said in a droning, wheezy, eerie voice. "No! No! No!", Walmick screamed and rushed (as fast as possible) to the door, banging away in the hope that the door would crumble. "Is you did to me, is I do to you", the voice repeated. Whatever happened to Walmick next, he did not know, nor would he ever. His body was covered in a film of a plastic- like substance. His body, as if carried by an invisible giant palm, was rocked towards the back of the bus and made to stand. The bus, accelerating all this while, stopped, surprisingly screechlessly. The upper half of Walmick's body remained stuck to the back of the bus, his waist gave a sickening 'glop' and the lower half parted ways with the upper, rushing forward to meet the front of the bus, smacking onto the windshield splattering blood all over the windshield and leather seats. The creature in the driver's seat curled its lipless mouth into a sickening smirk, and crashed the bus into a nearby tree. The bus erupted into flames, the creature in the driver's seat looked at the two halves with a mixture of longing, sadness and satisfaction, and dissolved into air in a wisp of green mist. 


	2. Meet Mulder and Scully

Thanks all for reviewing my story. It was a real encouragement for me to continue with this story. Hope the formatting is better. Get ready for more gruesome murders and twists ahead. Here we go.  
  
FBI HEADQUARTERS  
  
29TH JANUARY 1994  
  
10:06 AM  
  
"Come in", Mulder said, in response to a knock on his office door.  
  
"Good morning, Agent Mulder", Scully greeted, closing the door.  
  
"Good morning", Mulder said, chomping his favourite sunflower seeds.  
  
"So. what's with the message you sent me? Something about a gruesome murder", Scully remarked.  
  
"It is gruesome. like most X-Files anyway."  
  
"Come on, Mulder. you know me, I'm used to it.I do do autopsies, you know."  
  
But Mulder wasn't listening. he was busy loading slides into his projector.  
  
The X-Files were a kind of junkyard in the FBI - a junkyard for paranormal cases, cases that had no explanation, cases that would rather be thrown away than perused. Agent Mulder had been fascinated with these so-called X- Files, ever since aliens had abducted his sister, Samantha. He also had this distinct hunch, well, more than a hunch, that the X-Files had something (a lot, really) to do with secret government doings. Agent Scully had been sent by the FBI watchdogs to spy on Mulder, and to search for any possible excuses to shut down the X-Files. Now, however, Scully had been drawn into the web of the paranormal, though still stubbornly maintaining her scientific method stance.  
  
Mulder flicked on his projector, a beam of light illuminated the white screen in front. He showed a picture of 15 boys sitting in a group.  
  
"Class of 1984, Warren Newtonian Mechanics Engineering College", he said. He then showed a close-up of one of the boys sitting there.  
  
"Jachson Walmick, high-flier, class leader," Mulder continued. He then switched to show a slide of the burnt blue bus. "Died yesterday in a bus crash in VSN Street, Warren, Rhode Island," he described.  
  
"So what does this have to do with the X- Files, Mulder?" Scully queried.  
  
In response, Mulder changed slides showing the upper half of Walmick's body.  
  
"He died in a peculiar fashion," Mulder explained, "His body was sliced into half." To accentuate the last 6 words, he switched slides to show the lower half of Walmick's body. Scully's stomach writhed inside her. "So is this what we're investigating? How he died?" Mulder nodded his head slowly.  
  
"This compares favourably with a series of killings 5 years ago . 6 people of the class of 1984 died inexplicable and gruesome deaths. The murders all happened in lonely areas, at exactly the same time, though no pattern of dates is seen."  
  
After saying this, Mulder showed the close-ups of different boys in the class of 1984 picture.  
  
"George Ancival - Died in a machine factory . sliced to death. How he got onto the conveyor belt into the machine - Unexplained"  
  
"Richard Belgire - Died while along with his child on a merry-go-round. Even though the merry-go-round moved at normal speed, he was burnt to death."  
  
"Roche Wenith - Died during a cycling race. His cycle just stopped downhill, according to eye-witnesses, and he slipped WHAM! into an oak tree. His skull collapsed in his helmet."  
  
"Tony Timothy - Died while driving a truck. He had gone crashing through the windshield and the hood. Body found similar to Walmick's".  
  
"Elan Norethe - Died while climbing a tree to take a mango. A branch fell on his eye, and literally took his eye, as well as his brain, out."  
  
"Neville Nebrasco - Died in a boat .. actually drowned. How a light boat can drown . unexplained. The boat was exhumed later . no trace of any hole or anything. His body was exhumed too . no explanation for the thousands of bore holes on his skin."  
  
Scully would have puked thinking about all these, however, being with Mulder, she had seen some equally gruesome murders before, even worse.  
  
"So what's next, Mulder? Any weird theories, which could explain these murders? Awry alien experiments?"  
  
"Actually, no, Scully. I got us two tickets to Rhode Island. We're leaving in 2 hours. Get your bags packed. "  
  
Scully left the office, making a mental note to buy sickness pills from the nearest pharmacy.  
  
Review please ... and help me better this story. I'm sorry if I'm a bit too . well. boastful about the 'gruesome-ity' of the murders .. that was the only way to lengthen this chapter. *wink* 


	3. Plane of Understanding

Well. here it is, guys. The third chapter . Nothing much really . It might (or is supposed to, anyway) disperse any discrepancies, and doubts, I might have slipped in (unintentionally) in my last chapter . Thanks a LOT for the reviews . Wookie Devil, I didn't see 'Final Destination'... are some of the murders repeated? :| Sorry. Thanks ATX and Kamikaze Jane for the encouraging reviews!  
  
FLIGHT 196 FROM WASHINGTON TO WARREN  
  
1:10 PM  
  
"Hmm. I never could get this seat-belt mechanism", said Mulder, fiddling with his seat belt.  
  
Scully was poring over the files (both X and non X) for the case, apparently not taking in a word Mulder was saying.  
  
"Mulder?"  
  
Mulder took a while to reply to the summons. He was still fastening his seat belt. Satisfied when he heard the click of confirmation, he looked over at Scully. "Yes?"  
  
"Well. you said that all murders happened in lonely places. It seemed that Richard Belgire and Roche Wenith died in a crowd."  
  
"It happened when they were alone, Scully. Wenith was slowing down, apparently too tired to continue the race, you're never always young, you know. Belgire and his daughter were the only two people in the merry-go- round apparently, and it was a working day too, so many people wouldn't have come."  
  
"Mm-hmm. It also seems that there were 18, not 15, people in the class of 1984."  
  
"Hmm. Well, that's not too mysterious. They might have been having some sort of disease or something. Dinosaurs were rampant," Mulder finished with a joke.  
  
The joke was lost on Scully, who continued her interrogation.  
  
"Who was their class teacher?"  
  
"A guy named Wellis Camtrophe. He's still alive, married, with two children. He's living in Warren, too."  
  
"The boreholes on Nebrasco's skin . haven't there been any theories?"  
  
"Piranha?"  
  
"Could be." "How can he die of piranha in the US when they're found in the Amazon basin?"  
  
"Revenge, Mulder? Have there been any class rivalries."  
  
"Well, according to records, there was a guy who was constantly being picked on. Name of Nayle Northern. There he is", Mulder said, pointing to Nayle in the picture, "But that's no reason for revenge, is it?"  
  
"Nope. Well, anyway, back to the boreholes. Could it be some kind of seawater decomposition?"  
  
"After an hour or two underwater?"  
  
"Was the water contaminated?"  
  
"Warren is a small town, Scully, not too industrial for anything pollution- wise to happen."  
  
"OK, let's take Belgire's case. Could he have been burnt because of some fault in the merry-go-round? Electric shock?"  
  
"No go, Scully. After the murder, the merry-go-round was checked. It was working fine."  
  
Scully was beginning to think that there was some pattern. But what?  
  
"Elan Norethe died with a branch. How can a branch so small exert so much force to take an eye out?"  
  
"You're the scientific advisor, Scully. You tell me."  
  
"I don't know how that happened, but maybe something else might have . er . poked his eye out instead of the branch."  
  
"Like?"  
  
Scully had no answer. But she trudged ahead.  
  
"George Ancival died during work hours or after?"  
  
"Well. after. It seems he left something of his and went to retrieve it."  
  
"Thanks, Mulder. I'll go through the rest of the case files myself."  
  
"OK."  
  
And Mulder left Scully to re-immerse herself, who had no doubt now that something weird was going on, and it was foolish to pretend it wasn't.  
  
Review again ... Thanks . Off to see 'The Calusari' on the local channel (they're in season 2! I get to see all classics! Be jealous, anyone! (I'm jealous of the ones who have the DVDs. they get to see them whenever they want.. Boohoo!) ) :) 


	4. CSI

Here it is, Chapter 4. Nothing much really, again. Thanks all again for the reviews. 'The Calusari' was good. Next week, 'F. Emasculata'! Might get some more ideas for gruesome murders. Watch out! ;).  
  
CRIME SCENE  
  
WARREN, RHODE ISLAND  
  
30th JANUARY 1994  
  
"I don't know what you hope to find out", said Officer Henston, Chief of the Warren Police. "My police force has searched the area quite thoroughly. Nothing much has turned up."  
  
"You'd be surprised," Mulder said, "Has the body been moved in any way?"  
  
"Hasn't been touched. 'Course, we did cover it in plastic, but we were waiting for the Feds to come and see."  
  
Scully, meanwhile, was inspecting the remains of the bus, scattered all around the ground around the body.  
  
"Mulder, come here."  
  
Mulder came to see a Scully holding a fistful of greenish glowing powder.  
  
"I found this . it was hidden under a seat near the body." Saying so, she poured the powder into Mulder's hand. It was unusually cold.  
  
"Any idea what this could be?" Mulder asked.  
  
"Well, it could be a iron salt, but what are the odds of a iron salt being found in a burnt bus?"  
  
"Nil", Mulder agreed, "Still, how is the body?"  
  
"Burnt, just like you showed me. The body was sliced right across the torso. The intestines were poking out of the halves, however, there is something I have to show you," Scully finished leading the way to where the two halves lay.  
  
Using a rod, Scully turned the body around to show a hole, the size of a little finger, the depth of a pencil inside Walmick's back.  
  
"Has Officer Henston seen this?" Scully asked.  
  
"I don't know," Mulder said, "I'll ask him."  
  
In the minutes that ensued, Officer Henston arrived at their side and admitted that he hadn't seen the hole before.  
  
"So that means the hole was made recently, after the murder," Mulder said, with an unusual gleam in his eye. Scully knew that gleam , it was the gleam he got everytime he had a theory.  
  
"Scully, could you have this tested and see what it contains?" Mulder said, pointing to the green substance in his hand.  
  
"Why, Mulder?"  
  
"This same substance could have come out from that hole."  
  
"Mulder, that substance is green. Blood is red. How can a green substance come out of a red-blooded person?"  
  
"I don't know, Scully," Mulder agreed, "But could you have this tested anyway?"  
  
Scully grudgingly said yes.  
  
"In the meantime, Officer," Mulder turned his attention to the Chief of Police, "What do we know of Jachson Walmick?"  
  
"Nothing much. He was a teacher at the Warren Newtonian Mechanics Engineering College - he taught Gravitation. It seems he had given a tutorial to one of his students in the evening, after which he took a bus home, and then this happened."  
  
"Parents? Relatives?"  
  
"Both parents dead. Walmick was an only child."  
  
Mulder registered this information in his brain.  
  
"Well, thank you, Officer. I think that's all the information we need here. Thank you for your help. Scully, you and I have to pay a visit to the Warren Newtonian Mechanics Engineering College."  
  
Review again, please. Thanks all again in advance. ATX, there is nothing wrong with you. Fanfiction doesn't seem to acknowledge the 'three-dot cluster' ( . . . ) , so whenever I'm using them, they come up as single dots. Don't worry, though, I restricted their use in this chapter. 


	5. Delivery Boy

Chapter 5 up! Thanks again for the reviews. You sound suspicious, Wookie, what's up? Oh, and by the way, what happened to Kamikaze Jane? I have this feeling that only two people are reading my story. Please help publicize it, if you can.  
  
WARREN NEWTONIAN MECHANICS ENGINEERING COLLEGE  
  
JHR STREET  
  
ROOM 217 - PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE  
  
30TH JANUARY 1994  
  
3:30 PM  
  
"Yes, Walmich was a wonderful teacher here, loved by many. I can't imagine why he was killed when he was a kind human, wouldn't hurt a fly." Saying so, Principal Almont looked sadly at the ceiling.  
  
Mulder allowed him some time to grieve, after which he cleared his throat.  
  
"Well, we are sorry too that he has died. But we also fear that other people are going to die in the same way" (Almont looked at him in shock) "which is why we are here. We think that Walmich was murdered."  
  
Overcoming his shock, Almont looked at Mulder with his hazel-brown eyes. Almont was a lanky balding middle-aged man. He asked Mulder, "And in what way can I help?"  
  
"You were the Principal for the Class of 1984, is that correct?"  
  
"Yes, it is."  
  
"I was just wondering whether you could give us the current address of the alumni of that year. We have a hunch that the murderer is killing only the members of that class, and hence we hope to increase the security of the alumni of that class."  
  
"Well." Almont stood up and sauntered over to a large brown file cabinet at the corner of the air-conditioned room. Opening one of the drawers, he flipped his fingers through the files. Seeing this, Mulder remembered, amused, the tagline of the Yellow Pages: "Let your fingers do the walking."  
  
"Ah." Almont took a brown file labelled '1984', written with a red felt pen. Opening it, he took a paper out and gave it to Mulder. "Here you go, the present addresses of the alumni."  
  
"Thank you for your help. Are all of them still living in Warren?"  
  
"Well, most of them. Few of them have moved to neighbouring cities."  
  
"Well, thank you, Mr. Almont. We'll be taking your leave now."  
  
"Not at all, not at all. I want to see the person who killed Walmich behind bars." Saying so, he led Mulder and Scully out of his office.  
  
"Hmm.. seems like Walmick was well loved", Scully remarked.  
  
"Yeah..", Mulder agreed.  
  
Both of them looked at the list Almont gave them.  
  
"Well, 7 of them are dead already. Most of them seem to be living in Warren, except this guy over here." She pointed her finger to an address..  
  
"MONTAGUE WELSON 295 INSCHID STREET JAMESTOWN RHODE ISLAND," Mulder read.  
  
"Jamestown, that's a few hours' drive from here", Mulder said.  
  
"Isn't he the best friend of Walmich? The case files said so."  
  
"Yes, he is.. Scully, I think we better pay a visit to Welson."  
  
Scully agreed, but suggested that they stop over at the nearest restaurant for lunch.  
  
BURGER SHACK  
  
JAMESTOWN, RHODE ISLAND  
  
7:50 PM  
  
"Burger Shack, Welson speaking. May I take your order?"  
  
"Yes, I would like a chicken burger, without onions, with a side order of French Fries," the voice on the other phone dictated.  
  
"Yes Sir, and where do you live?"  
  
"I live on Charles Street, 2-B."  
  
"Yes, Sir, your order will arrive in 20 minutes."  
  
"Thank you." The caller put the phone down, leaving Welson to hear an incessant dial tone.  
  
Welson moved over to the French Fries- making machine. A handsome man in his thirties, Montague Welson had a night-shift job at the 24/7 Burger Shack, taking in orders and passing on the orders to a delivery boy. Today, (tonight, rather) would be the first night for the new delivery boy. Welson had not seen him before.  
  
The shop was particularly empty tonight. Like Warren. Eerie, Welson thought, as he looked around.  
  
After leaving the French Fries- making machine to its job, Welson walked over to the patty grill and began flipping over burger patties, when he heard the door open and close.  
  
Assuming that it was the new delivery boy, Welson said, without turning, "Well, it's about time you arrived. Here, I just got an order. I'm just finishing cooking the order. Meanwhile, change into your uniform. It's in the back."  
  
There were no footsteps in response.  
  
"Well, what are you waiting for? Get going."  
  
No response, rather a voice, the same voice Walmich heard before his gruesome demise. "Is you did to me, is I do to you."  
  
Startled, Welson slowly turned around, and saw the same creature that Walmich saw. This creature was familiar to Welson, too, and was terrifying to him too. Welson's face turned chalk-white, and in his fear, didn't notice his legs moving toward the French Fries- making machine.  
  
"Nayle?" he whispered disbelievingly. He still hadn't noticed the slow movement of his legs.  
  
"Is you did to me, is I do to you."  
  
"But- but- I thought you had died 5 years ago."  
  
"Is you did to me, is I do to you."  
  
Only when his legs hit the machine with a clunk did Welson notice where he had arrived.  
  
"Wh-what are y-you g-g-going t-to do to me?"  
  
"Is you did to me, is I do to you."  
  
It happened in ten seconds. In a jerking motion, Welson's little finger got lodged in the potato shredder. With a bloodcurdling scream that echoed throughout the shop, the last sound Welson would ever make, his body was slowly, excruciatingly, absorbed and chopped by the French Fries- making machine. After the ten seconds had come and gone, and Welson's blood littered the French Fries like ketchup, the creature called Nayle moved over to the machine, scooped up some French Fries, stuffed it in a packet, and dissolved into green mist.  
  
2-B CHARLES STREET  
  
JAMESTOWN  
  
RHODE ISLAND  
  
Welson's last customer opened the door in response to a knock. No one was at the door, but a packet labelled 'Burger Shack' lay at his doorstep. Puzzled that no one stayed to collect the necessary fee, the customer opened the packet, and screamed.  
  
Inside the French Fries lay a single bloody eyeball and a little finger...  
  
Please review the chapter again. Thanks! Don't forget to spread the message that this story exists ;). 


	6. Terry Nelson

Comment: I'm really, really, really sorry, guys, for not posting for over a week. I was just up to here with my neck in homework, schoolwork, activities, functions, project work, etc. and I've just found time to type this chapter of this fiction. Hope you enjoy it ... and please don't forget to review like you used to.  
  
Disclaimer: As with Warren, information and locations in Jamestown are highly fictitious.  
  
30TH JANUARY 1994  
  
10:30 PM  
  
2-B CHARLES STREET  
  
JAMESTOWN  
  
RHODE ISLAND  
  
"Hmm. T. Nelson." Mulder read as he and Scully pulled up along the driveway of 2-B Charles Street. A lone police car had encroached upon the frontal areas of the cozy 1-bedroom house situated in a lonely location, the nearest house half-a-kilometer away.  
  
T. Nelson struck a chord in the nerve cell guitar of Mulder's brain. He told Scully, "M. Nelson was an alumnus from the Class of 1984 ...", he told Scully.  
  
Scully gasped and said, "I hope this is not another murder, Agent Mulder. This serial killer is progressing way too fast and we are sitting here doing nothing."  
  
They had just reported at the Jamestown Police Station when the Police Inspector was moving out of the station to respond to a 'call of panic', in his words. Mulder and Scully followed and reached where they were now.  
  
The porch light spilled on Police Inspector James Olzeck was in the process of ringing the doorbell when Mulder and Scully moved behind him. The door took a while to open, but when it did, its movement was constricted (beside hinges) by a chain. A pair of wide eyes looked up at Mulder, Scully and Olzeck and a firm, but nonetheless womanly, voice asked, "What do you want? Haven't we got enough trouble for a day?"  
  
Olzeck replied, "We received a call from a T. Nelson ... He sounded plenty panicky."  
  
The eyes became slits and the voice asked, "Nelson called you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Did he say why?"  
  
"No."  
  
For a second or two, the eyes widened again, but were covered by the darkness spilled on them as the door rotated its way towards a close. Mulder intervened in the door's progress by putting his foot in between door and wooden panel (the door was wooden) and showed his credentials to the eyes. The eyes peered at the credentials closely, as though checking whether the details seemed correct. When the eyes finished their promenade over the credentials, the door again closed, but this time opened, this time without a chain.  
  
"Come in," said the voice, politely, though interspersed with annoyance and fatigue.  
  
The voice belonged to a plump lady in her mid-fifties, wearing the clothes most ladies wear. Grey hair mixed with black, on a head with a plump, but surly, chin.  
  
"Sit down", the lady said, pointing to a set of sofas in the living room, furnished in mid-80's style, paintings and portraits littering the cream walls.  
  
All 3 made themselves comfortable while the lady bustled her way to the kitchen and returned with glasses of tea.  
  
"I am Nancy Isabel, the in-house maid. I take care of Terry ... he's suffering from a nervous breakdown and excitement is very detrimental . He's in bed right now," the lady began.  
  
"Do you know why he called the Police?" Olzeck queried.  
  
"I had just come from shopping when he ran over to me spluttering out some words I didn't recognize. I tried to soothe him, but his words still remained unintelligible. I put him off to sleep. There must have been something terrible which had excited him so much."  
  
Mulder and Olzeck were focussed on Isabel, but Scully's attention was caught by the Burger Shack packet on the brown table behind the sofas.  
  
"What's that?" Scully asked Isabel.  
  
"Huh?" Isabel turned to look, "I don't know, I didn't notice that was there. Nelson must have ordered something from Burger Shack... his favourite fast food place here."  
  
Scully paced her way across the living room, opened the packet and gave a very audible gasp.  
  
"What is it, Scully?" Mulder asked.  
  
"It's... urgh ... Mulder, it - it's horrible," Scully stuffed her hand inside the packet and took out Welson's little finger and eyeball.  
  
Isabel and Olzeck gasped in the background, as Mulder moved over to where Scully's hand lay outstretched and took the little finger, looking at it interestingly. He then beckoned Scully over to him, with that same glint in his eye. He pointed to a hole, an iron nail in depth and width, from which a green powder was spewing ... the same green powder which erupted from Walmich's body.  
  
"You did send a request for a chemical composition test on this, Scully?"  
  
"I did after we saw Walmich's body. We will be receiving the results tomorrow."  
  
"Could this have scared Nelson?" Mulder shifted his centre of attention towards Isabel.  
  
"Yes, it definitely could have", Isabel said, as she looked at the eyeball in Scully's hand with an expression of near-retching.  
  
"Well.". Mulder began, but he was interrupted by another voice, this one meek, almost inaudible.  
  
"N-N-Nancy?"  
  
Nancy Isabel quickly moved over to the ajar door where Terry Nelson appeared, his eyes wide, his hair dishevelled, his mouth salivating. He looked at the threesome with fear.  
  
"It's OK, Terry. There's nothing to be afraid of. They're friends, they want to know what happened to you tonight."  
  
No sooner had she completed her sentence than Terry fell on his knees towards Scully, "Please, please, you got to help me! He's back! He's back!", he pleaded.  
  
Scully knelt down to Terry's parallax and asked silently, "Who's back, Terry? Who are you afraid of?"  
  
But Terry's eyes were focussed on the eyeball in Scully's hand. Suddenly, in a voice which definitely hadn't shown itself earlier, Terry screamed, "NO! HE'S BACK! HE'S DEFINITELY BACK!"  
  
"Terry!", Isabel screamed.  
  
"HE'S BACK! LOOK, HE'S KILLED SOMEONE ELSE TODAY! LOOK!" With a shaking finger, he pointed at the eyeball in Scully's hand. "HE'S GOING TO GET ME SOON! PLEASE, PLEASE HELP!" And with that, Terry fainted.  
  
The four other humans in the room looked at the body on the ground with utmost surprise and fear. Finally, after a minute's silent communion, Isabel knelt and began to lift Terry to the nearest sofa.  
  
"I think it's time you left. Terry's under too much pressure. He has never fainted like this in a while. Please leave." With that, Isabel left Terry and opened the wooden door, beckoning the threesome out. Mulder, Scully and Olzeck moved out, preferring not to argue and not to disturb a man who was suffering from fear.  
  
After the door closed behind them, Mulder looked towards Olzeck and said, "Where is Burger Shack? I have a feeling we have had another murder."  
  
OK, guys. I'll try to keep updating more frequently from now on. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. ATX, it's WalmicK, not WalmicH. mistake on my part. Thanks for identifying! Review please. Thanks. 


	7. Olzeck and Tamura

Comment: Hey, two new reviewers. That's cool. I was beginning to think the new chapter would go unnoticed. What happened to Wookie and ATX? Rach, the name of the story itself is an integral part of the plot - if I told you what it meant, I would have to kill you ;).  
  
Disclaimer: The X-Files are super .. Why? Because that's THE TRUTH.  
  
BURGER SHACK  
  
JAMESTOWN  
  
RHODE ISLAND  
  
30TH JANUARY 1994  
  
11:00 PM  
  
Mulder and Scully drove up the parking lot of the still-empty Burger Shack behind James Olzeck, who drove up in his police car. Olzeck rushed into the store, followed by Mulder, who noted grimly that there was no one behind the counter, and Scully.  
  
The front door creaked open and all three crept in. Their eyes travelled all over the place, and Scully's landed on the French Fries- making machine. Once again that night, Scully gasped. Once again that night, she saw body parts that had no body.  
  
Mulder's and Olzeck's eyes rested there too. They saw the remnants of Montague Welson's body silently. Then Mulder slowly crept over to the machine. On closer inspection, he saw that the blood that littered the place and some of the body parts had turned green. He called Scully over.  
  
"Scully, isn't this green substance common in all the murders?"  
  
Scully nodded.  
  
Mulder continued, "So all will depend on the results tomorrow." He turned to Olzeck and said, "Do you know who this might be?"  
  
Olzeck replied in the negative. He said, though, that he would ask the Forensics Department to check it out.  
  
Mulder thanked him. "Do you know any place where we might stay for the night?"  
  
"Yes, the Jamestown Hotel, just 15 minutes drive from here."  
  
JAMESTOWN HOTEL  
  
31ST JANUARY 1994  
  
9:00 AM  
  
Mulder was never one to sleep late, especially on a 'brisk morning such as this' (he said when he woke up). In another room, he knew, Scully would be sleeping away. Mulder got out of bed, performed what one usually does in the morning, and left his room to knock on Scully's door.  
  
Surprisingly, Scully was wide-awake too. She couldn't sleep, she complained, bad dreams. Locking her door, Mulder and Scully led their way out of the hotel. The hotel was one of the best and only in Jamestown. The reception seemed to be both small and big at the same time. The dinner was delicious the previous night, had they had the appetite.  
  
After playing guest to a delicious breakfast, Mulder and Scully made their way to the Jamestown Police Force, a small two-storey building built with bricks, which shimmered under the sultry sun. They made their way to Police Inspector Olzeck's desk. He was sitting there - the ordeal of the previous night must have tired him, for he had black bags under his eyes.  
  
"Glad you came. Sit down", he gestured towards a pair of frayed leather- backed seats.  
  
Mulder and Scully sat down while Olzeck opened a file. He handed out one sheet of paper to Scully.  
  
"Here are the results of the forensic test on the body..."  
  
Scully glanced through the paper and read out aloud, "It says that the body belongs to a Montague Welson..."  
  
"Montague Welson?" Mulder asked.  
  
"Yes. It also goes on to say that the body had passed through the potato- chopping machine ... specks of blood matching Welson's body were found in the machine ..."  
  
"Montague Welson was also a member of the Class of 1984," Mulder said suddenly.  
  
"Class of 1984?" Olzeck queried, and Mulder explained their ideas to him.  
  
"Then, Mulder, we can predict that the next murder will be from the Class of 1984!"  
  
"That's right. Officer Olzeck, we need some tighter security around the members of Class of 1984."  
  
"I'll see what I can do."  
  
"Scully, where are the results coming in?"  
  
In reply, the fax machine in Olzeck's office came alive. A paper buzzed through the slit, and Olzeck snatched it.  
  
"Hm...it's for you guys ... from the FBI Forensics Centre."  
  
Scully took the paper from Olzeck's outstretched hand. "These are the results of the test on Walmick's body."  
  
"Well, what does it say?" Mulder prompts.  
  
"It looks like... that green powder... no, wait, that's impossible."  
  
"What is it, Scully?" Mulder asks.  
  
"It says it contains a small percentage of every element in the human body ... carbon, sulphur, phosphorus, nitrogen . all separate and pure ... that's impossble. They should have reacted!"  
  
"Hmm... I think we better concentrate on finding the next possible victim..." Mulder said.  
  
Back at the hotel, Mulder and Scully pored over the case files.  
  
"Well, Mulder", Scully said finally, "It seems as if we're going nowhere."  
  
"Yep", Mulder agreed. "Have you made any headway in deciding what was that green substance?"  
  
"Well... no... but I'm thinking those elements came from the victim's bodies."  
  
"Obvious, isn't that?"  
  
"Yes, it is. Hmm...", she was looking at the picture of the Class of 1984, "Why was Nayle Northern picked on, any idea?"  
  
"No idea, Scully... Hey, we didn't visit Terry Nelson today. He might be OK and he might have some answers to our questions."  
  
"OK, Mulder, let's go. Nothing constructive is happening here, anyway."  
  
11-C THOMASIAN STREET  
  
JACKSONVILLE  
  
RHODE ISLAND  
  
31st JANUARY 1994  
  
7:50 PM  
  
Timmy Tamura was an architectural engineer. Not the glorious of jobs, you might say, but Tamura had always been interested in architecture.  
  
It was another overnight. Tamura had to work overnight again. Paunchy, receding hair, of Japanese origin, Tamura never did like overnight, but at least was paid for it.  
  
The other thing he hated was that he had to work alone, with his secretary. He hated loneliness, being a social person.  
  
Tonight, he was waiting for his secretary in his office. He was looking for some files which he desperately needed. Finally, he heard the door click. Without looking back, he said, "Glad you came. Listen, I urgently need those files from marketing which I received today... where did you keep them?"  
  
No reply.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
Still no reply.  
  
"Why are you not say- AARGH!" For he had turned back and saw ... Nayle.  
  
"Is you did to me, is I do to you."  
  
"How come YOU'RE here? I thought you had died!"  
  
"Is you did to me, is I do to you."  
  
"Am I dreaming? Are- are you Nayle's ghost?" Those were the last words he ever said.  
  
For suddenly, his body was covered in a film-like substance and his body was levitated inches off the ground, and placed in horizontal position. Like a magician, the creature moved the body with his hand and placed it next to the drawer. Suddenly, as if plucked, Tamura began to vibrate back and forth, hitting the side of the drawer. The impact of every hit was suddenly very big, and with every hit, blood came out of Tamura's mouth. After playtime was over, the creature caused Tamura's leg to rise and tore it off, causing the rest of the body to slam on the ground, bleeding.  
  
The creature left the leg on Nelson's doorstep...  
  
Review please! Thanks! I know, I know, the murder's not too gruesome, but it's what I could think of at the last moment. 


	8. Green and Grey

Comment: *Fresh air* Thanks, guys and welcome back, people. Mel, you complain that the chapters aren't long enough? OK, that's constructive, thanks. I'll try to make it as long as possible... Where's Rachel? ATX, I added you to my Messenger List. What's yours, Wookie?  
  
Disclaimer: The X-Files are OVER! Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! I hate you, Chris Carter! *sniff* Sorry...  
  
Story:  
  
2-B CHARLES STREET  
  
JAMESTOWN  
  
RHODE ISLAND  
  
8:00 PM  
  
A car pulled up beside the now familiar driveway of 2-B Charles Street. Screeching to a halt, Mulder got up from the steering-wheel side and Scully from the passenger side, making a mental note never to travel with Mulder again.  
  
Striding across the front path, Mulder reached the doorstep and saw the leg.  
  
Scully came beside him, and gasped again.  
  
As if reading his mind, she said, "Another murder, Mulder?"  
  
He nodded his head.  
  
Scully bent down and looked at the leg closely. She was used to examining and autopsying dead bodies, but never a mutilated leg. Carefully, she turned the leg around. She saw that it was ripped off at the knee cap, the bone protruding out. Green powder was, however, not present.  
  
"This couldn't have been a murder, Agent Mulder."  
  
"Why not, Scully?"  
  
"Because it doesn't have the greenish powder."  
  
"Hmm..." Mulder had that weird gleam again.  
  
"Scully, suppose this green powder was formed from decay. Possible, right?"  
  
"Err...could be, why?" "Because ALL of those murders - Walmick and Welson - we were late... so this green powder came."  
  
"That is the most scientific explanation I've heard from you, Agent Mulder, ever. But why green?"  
  
"No idea... but if my hunch is correct, this murder happened recently - very recently."  
  
Suddenly, the door opened and there stood Terry Nelson. He took one glance at his doorstep and again screamed.  
  
Mulder and Scully were taken by surprise, but then started to quieten him. Isabel rushed from inside to see what was the matter, and helped Mulder and Scully to control the hysteric Nelson.  
  
After Nelson was quietened down, taken into the living room, covered in a woolen blanket and given hot coffee, Isabel turned to the FBI Agents.  
  
"What are you doing here? Why is it that whenever YOU are around Nelson goes hyperactive?"  
  
"It's not us, Miss Isabel."  
  
"Oh, then what could be the possible reason that every time Terry screams when HE sees YOU?"  
  
"Come with us", Mulder invited.  
  
Grudgingly, Isabel followed Mulder to the doorstop. She saw the leg. She gasped.  
  
"What's THAT doing over here?"  
  
"No idea", Mulder shrugged. And what followed was totally unexpected.  
  
"OK, That's IT!" Isabel screamed. "I've had enough trouble around here without you FBI Agents traipsing around MY house and destroying MY efforts to keep Terry incubated and cured! Every time you guys come here, there's something to SCARE Terry out of his WITS! I've a good mind to..." But what she had on her mind was no one's to know. For Terry Nelson himself came into the hall. Mulder closed the door - he didn't want to scare Terry again.  
  
"Hello, Agents," said Terry, in an uncharacteristically more mature voice than he had last. "Pleased to meet you." He held out a hand to Scully.  
  
"Hello, Mr. Nelson. I'm sorry - I know what you're going through. I..." Scully said, but Terry cut her off with a wave.  
  
"It's all right. It's not your fault. It's at times like these I get really freaked out by these.. err.. body parts (he gave a small chuckle). But, anyway, won't you sit down?"  
  
Surprised, but pleased, at the sudden change and invitation of Nelson, Scully and Mulder sat down on one of the comfortable sofas of the living room. Isabel, followed, glaring. Terry seated himself in one of the sofas and faced the agents.  
  
"Isabel might be giving you a hard time here. But I don't blame her, nor you. It's just that keeping me calm has been quite a job for Isabel (he chuckled again - "That's for sure," Isabel muttered). You see, I have had a nervous breakdown, since 5 years ago, and keeping it under control has been very hard, what with these ... things ... coming up now and then (he said the last few words in a tone of deep disgust)."  
  
"Do you have any idea what these murders might be caused due to? And why they're affecting your particular class?" Scully said.  
  
"Not sure, but I think it was the ... well, we called it the Great Experiment. Unfortunately, I lost my memory of most of the accident which killed poor Nayle, but I do remember I was part of the experiment."  
  
"Nayle Northern? Killed?" Mulder piped up.  
  
"Yep. Surprisingly, his body was never found. I have been torn with guilt, blaming myself for Nayle's death. Until I saw him again."  
  
"You saw him again?"  
  
"Yes. I saw him killing poor Elan. I saw him make the branch fall. You see, Elan and I were on a picnic. He climbed up the mango tree to take the mango. I, on the other hand, went into the woods to collect twigs for the picnic fire. I saw Nayle - his face was terrible, almost skull-like - and he saw me. I ran for my life. Ever since then, I'm sure Nayle has been killing all my classmates ... I just don't know why. I also don't know why he keeps sending me these body parts." Here, he broke off, with a silent tear rolling down his cheek. But there was a tone of secrecy in his voice Mulder didn't like.  
  
"Will Wellis Camtrophe have any idea as to the ... er ... Great Experiment?" Scully said.  
  
"My old class teacher? Yes... yes... that's possible! (Terry's eyes lit up) Perhaps you could visit him, but he lives in Warren."  
  
"We'll find time," Mulder said "Or perhaps you have his phone number?"  
  
"Yes, yes, I do. Wait here, I'll get it for you." Saying so, he rose up from the sofa and went to fetch his phone book.  
  
But, Mulder's phone rang. Pressing the 'Call' button, he spoke into the receiver "Yes?"  
  
"Mulder? It's Olzeck. Listen, can you come here to 11-C Thomasian Street right away? There's something urgent."  
  
"What about?" Mulder asked, though he already knew the answer.  
  
"A murder. A gruesome one, at that."  
  
"Will do." Saying so, Mulder snapped his cell phone closed and beckoned Scully to the door. "It's an emergency, Scully," he said.  
  
They met Terry Nelson at the door. "Thank you for your information but we have to go now, Mr. Nelson. It's an emergency. Here's our present location in case you ever need any help." Saying so, he handed Nelson a card with the name of the Jamestown Hotel on it.  
  
"That's OK, but here... here's the number", Terry said, pushing a wad of paper into Mulder's hand.  
  
"Thanks, and bye." Mulder said, as he and Scully rushed out into the pathway.  
  
11-C THOMASIAN STREET  
  
JAMESTOWN  
  
RHODE ISLAND  
  
8:45 PM  
  
"What took you so long?" Olzeck complained, as Mulder and Scully came running up to him. They were situated in front of a large office, with an electric signboard reading 'Jamestown Architectural Engineers & Co.'  
  
"Scully's bad map-reading," Mulder playfully joked (Scully glared at him), "But, where's the murder?"  
  
"Inside, guy named Timmy Tamura."  
  
"Who informed you of the murder?" Mulder asked as they strode up the path leading to the office door.  
  
"Secretary," Olzeck said, as they opened the door.  
  
Scully now realized where the leg had come from. There, on the floor, lying in a pool of blood, lay Tamura's mutilated body, one trouser leg was limp.  
  
Scully looked at Mulder with a twinge of guilt. "Mulder, this is getting ridiculous. This guy...or whatever he is... he's going too fast... we must do something to stop him."  
  
"I agree, Scully, but we have no clues whatsoever, except the green powder." Mulder sighed. But he brightened up. "There is one hope though. We could call Wellis Camtrophe and maybe get some more clues."  
  
A flash of recognition flashed across Olzeck's face as Camtrophe's name was mentioned, but it was lost on the two agents.  
  
2-B CHARLES STREET  
  
JAMESTOWN  
  
RHODE ISLAND  
  
Back at the Nelson house, Terry Nelson was saying goodnight to his maid, as she went off into her room and closed the door. Nelson too entered his bedroom and closed his door. He turned to his bed, and faced... Terry Nelson. This Terry Nelson was lying on the bed, but green bands constricted his movements. His mouth was gagged too.  
  
The Terry Nelson at the door looked at him almost longingly. Slowly, a green mist covered the Terry Nelson at the door, and as the mist dissipated, Nayle came in place. Terry's eyes widened in terror. Nayle laughed... a horrid laugh, a cacophony of hyena laughter and masochistic laughter. He then said in the same voice that he delivered onto Walmick, Welson and Tamura, "Pity. Being an Unmotonable, you would have been free by now. But I've better things to do. Pity to see your classmates die, isn't it?" He again broke out into laughter and dissolved into green mist.  
  
What Nayle didn't notice was that Terry's bounds were almost at breaking point. As Terry contorted his face in concentration, more grey particles erupted from his body, landed on the green ones, and on contact, both disappeared. Finally, Terry was free. He had to warn someone, but whom? 


	9. 217

Comments: Thanks, guys. I'm really really really really sorry for my long absence - I had exams. But now I'm back in business. Yup, ATX, that was me. Wookie, I meant your MSN Nick. Thanks for the reviews. Hey, Musheer. Thanks for reviewing. As Gothic Spook says , 'Reviews=More Chapters'. I'm gonna have a little change in writing style here. Enjoy!  
  
Disclaimer: I am a Super Soldier.  
  
Story:  
  
2-B CHARLES STREET  
  
JAMESTOWN  
  
RHODE ISLAND  
  
9:10 PM  
  
Terry rushed down to the ground floor of the house. He hurriedly looked around his room for some object of comfort, something that would help him. He then glanced a hotel card on the living room table.  
  
The same hotel card, which Mulder gave Terry-Nayle. On it, scrawled in Mulder's handwriting, were Mulder's and Scully's name, preceded by 'FBI Agents'. Snatching up the card, Terry rushed to unlock the door, and ran out into the darkening night...  
  
JAMESTOWN HOTEL  
  
JAMESTOWN  
  
RHODE ISLAND  
  
9:10 PM  
  
Meanwhile, Mulder and Scully had reached their hotel. Scully was exhausted, but Mulder still had the spring in his step. After a wonderful dinner, Scully left early to go to bed, while Mulder went to his room, undressed, dressed in nightclothes, and lay down on the bed, unsolved questions in his mind.  
  
What was Terry Nelson hiding?  
  
What was the green substance common to all murders?  
  
Why was Nayle killing his own classmates? Revenge? For what? Why was he sending Terry residues of his murders?  
  
What was the Great Experiment all about?  
  
Suddenly, a knock on his room door derailed his train of thought. Startled, Mulder got out of bed, and snatched his gun from the bedside table. Slowly, he walked to the door, unlocked it and while opening, held his gun perpendicular to the body. His gun faced... Terry Nelson.  
  
Apparently, Terry Nelson had run all the way here. He was breathing hard, and spoke, his breath coming in collects. He spoke, "Nayle... please... help... Nayle... back... again... Please... Please..." He then fainted at Mulder's feet.  
  
Startled, Mulder leaped backward, but shared the impact of Terry's fall on his feet. He looked at Terry's body and saw that he was wearing the same clothes as when they had met in the afternoon. Bending down, he felt the wrist for a pulse and found a weakening one. Straightening up, he dragged Terry's body to his bed and went to call Scully...  
  
JAMESTOWN HOTEL  
  
JAMESTOWN  
  
RHODE ISLAND  
  
10:09 PM  
  
"He's all right, Mulder... just suffering extreme exhaustion... I don't know how he managed to come here from way out where he was." While saying so, Scully was mixing a glass of water with glucose. She tipped it into Terry's mouth, trying to get him to drink it.  
  
"Why, though, why was he here? What did he want to see us for?"  
  
"I suggest you ask him yourself," said Scully, for the water in the glass was beginning to be gulped, and Terry's eyes began to flicker open.  
  
"W-w-where am I?" Terry said.  
  
"You are here, at the Jamestown Hotel... I am Agent Scully, and this is Agent Mulder." Scully said, pointing to herself and Mulder.  
  
"Jame-Jamestown Hotel...?" Terry stammered, then sat up suddenly, "Jamestown Hotel? And you are the agents whose name is on this card?" Fumbling in his pant pocket, he fished out the hotel card.  
  
Scully took the hotel card and nodded in confirmation.  
  
"Thank Goodness. I need your help."  
  
"Help?" Mulder inquired.  
  
"Yes... I've got information regarding Nayle Northern."  
  
"You have?"  
  
"Yes. You see, the person you thought was me and who talked to you in the afternoon was not me. It was Nayle."  
  
Scully was now looking at Terry with an eye of suspicion. "So you're saying that Nayle's a shape-shifter?", she inquired skeptically.  
  
"Yes...kind of... You see, Nayle's a Motonist."  
  
"A Motonist?"  
  
"Yes...he's not human... he's made up of motons."  
  
"Motons?"  
  
"Let me start from the beginning. I was a member of the Class of 1984 from the Warren Newtonian Mechanics Engineering College. We were a well-knit group. Except for Nayle, that is. He used to be the 'bookworm' of our class, very smart fellow. As a result, he was separate from us ... and we used to poke fun at him." Terry gave a long sigh.  
  
Continuing, he said, "Well, it was the Science Fair at our school ... It was our last year at high school. Nayle wanted to win that prize - he really put in his best effort. Day and night, between classes, pre- and post- lunch, he would be found working on his ... machine. Big, big thingy, with lots of dials, buttons and what not. Well, he completed it on time... just on the day of the Science Fair, and he hadn't tested it out earlier. He was going to test it out before the festival."  
  
FLASHBACK:  
  
WARREN NEWTONIAN MECHANICS COLLEGE  
  
23rd APRIL 1984  
  
9:00 A.M.  
  
Nayle rides a cycle to school and parks his cycle in the cycle shed. Rushing down the hall packed with students, he meets young Terry Nelson.  
  
"Hey, Nayle, looking good!"  
  
Without a slight pause for a greeting, Nayle moves into a room marked 'Science Lab'. Placing his bag down on a nearby counter, Nayle moves into the deep recesses of the lab. Big lab this one, mostly chemistry. Mostly beakers and stuff. Doors on the sides lead to the Optics, Electronics and Engineering labs. Stopping in front of an grey door numbered '217' , Nayle searches in his pocket and finds a key. Stuffing the key in the keyhole, he turns the key and hears the satisfying click that gains him access. This room is unused... but Nayle has found a purpose for it. The room is small, much like your average kitchen. A towering grey machine fills in half the space, leaving Nayle less space to move around. He comes and pats the machine, with its innumerable dials and buttons, saying, "Hello, my baby." His voice is unlike the voice he delivered onto Walmick, Welson and Tamura - silent, childish... He moves to the back of the machine and plugs it up. He flips a wall switch and a curious hum emanates from the machine, along with periodic empty 'plonks'.  
  
CUT TO TERRY: That day was the worst day of our lives. It made us what we are today. It also ended what we became today. That evening, our class went to place our own projects, and some of us wanted to poke fun of Nayle and his .. uh .. 'Great Experiment', he called it.  
  
CUT BACK TO PAST:  
  
SCIENCE LAB  
  
WARREN NEWTONIAN MECHANICS COLLEGE  
  
23rd APRIL 1984  
  
7:45 PM  
  
A gossipy group of students - the students of the Class of 1984 - enter the Science Lab. Each of the 17 present move over to their places and place their models. Terry has an interesting model on a pendulum with infinite time period. Among the people present are Tamura with a model of a solar furnace, Welson with a model of the intricacies of a television circuit, Walmick with a really nice model of a satellite. The folks are chatting while arranging their items and the chatter makes an interesting cacophony. Suddenly, at 7:51 p.m. (by Tamura's watch), a loud empty 'plonk' escaped the grey door at the rear of the laboratory. All turned their heads curiously and the sight that met them was curious. A hole was melted in the middle of the grey hole and the part of the door that constituted this hole suddenly flew outwards. It glided through the air in a straight line and stopped in mid-air a short distance from the door, finally flopping down.  
  
Shocked and scared, all 17 gaped at the door. 3 people courageously moved up to the door, one of them was Terry. As the looked through the hole in the door, they found Nayle suspended in air bathed in a green light that emanated from the machine. Surprised, the three rush into the room where they gaze horrified at the suspended Nayle. Terry, in a fit of courage, runs and tries to pull Nayle out, but this action has a horrific consequence. Another ray came out of another opening in the machine. This one is grey. As it left the machine, it splits into many smaller rays, which bounce across the room. Some of the rays engulfed the three standing there. As Terry watches in horror, his two friends start to get suspended in air as if being controlled by a puppeteer, and the same effect occurs onto Terry himself. As we see all four suspended in air, we notice another thing. On a table beside the machine lies a book: Theory of Motons. 


	10. Warning : Flammable

Comments: Hello people. Once again, thanks for the reviews. It's been a wonderful encouragement. Once again, I'm really sorry for not updating quickly enough, Rachel. I have some other engagements in my social and educational life. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy my other fledgling project 'The Songs We Sing'. Yippee! I reached a milestone with this 10th chapter, which also happens to be a milestone in the story. Hope you enjoy it! Thanks a lot to ATX for suggesting the title to this chapter!  
  
Disclaimer: M/S rocks! So does D/R.  
  
Story:  
  
FLASHBACK:  
  
SCIENCE LAB  
  
WARREN NEWTONIAN MECHANICS COLLEGE  
  
23rd APRIL 1984  
  
7:50 PM  
  
The foursome remained suspended in air, three engulfed by a shadowy grey ray, and Nayle surrounded by green light. Terry was having an interesting experience - he felt himself being disintegrated painlessly, particle by particle. Then, he felt himself being rejoined particle by particle. This process continued, until finally disintegration of his body stopped. Then came the scary part. Every scary moment in his life, every moment in his life he felt inclined to fear, played in his mind like a continuous film, rewinding and replaying. He felt himself experienced every moment in full true-life colour. He started screaming, an empty scream, that seemed to echo into an abyss of nothingness. Finally, everything stopped - everything was black around him, and he felt his body land with a 'whump' on the ground. What he didn't notice was that some grey particles broke loose from his body.  
  
***  
  
Terry was running, running through a dark forest. He looked down at himself. He was a nine-year-old child. He looked behind him, a man holding a knife running behind him. Tripping over a grass root, he fell and landed on his knees. As he started crying and as his right knee started spewing a thin stream of blood, the man stood over him, his face covered in shadow, Terry lying between his legs, the man lowered the knife. As Terry screamed, he seemed to be lifted out from the dark forest and into light. He opened his eyes.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
JAMESTOWN HOTEL  
  
JAMESTOWN  
  
RHODE ISLAND  
  
11:04 PM  
  
"That was one of the most frightening moments of my life. That same man killed my mother when I was a child. He was coming after me, that scene had played in my mind for so many years afterward. I had to undergo therapy, and I had almost forgotten about it, when... when..." Terry wiped his eyes on his sleeve and took the glass of water Scully was offering him. Gulping thirstily, he then placed the glass on his bedside table. Looking at it as though repulsed, he continued with his story.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
HOSPITAL WING  
  
WARREN NEWTONIAN MECHANICS COLLEGE  
  
24th APRIL 1984  
  
9:08 AM  
  
Terry opened his eyes. Still recovering from the shock of his dream, he sat up in his bed and looked wildly around him. He was in the hospital wing - a white walled room with windows covered with translucent blue curtains, giving the room a sort of dreamy feel. Beside him, Nayle lay still unconscious, his glasses on his bedside table, covered with a white blanket. To the right of him, lay the other two students who experienced the grey ray.  
  
Slowly, Terry lay back down on a bed, as the college nurse came in. Walking over to him, the college nurse bent over the bed and asked him whether he was okay. Looking at the college nurse bending over him, Terry slowly saw the nurse's face slowly morph into the Man in the Forest, and his surroundings slowly changed to forest environs. Again, Terry saw his body as that of a nine-year-old and stared up at the Man in the Forest holding a knife in his hand. Then, slowly, the Man's face contorted back into the nurse's face and the knife in her hand disappeared to reveal an empty hand, which made contact with Terry's cheek. Terry snapped out of the stupor he fell into and did not realize he was screaming. "Are you OK? Snap out of it!," the nurse asked and gave him another slap on the cheek. Terry closed his eyes - his vision had suddenly started to blur - and then he opened his eyes again. The nurse looked over at him concerned. Terry turned his head to one side and mumbled, "I'm OK".  
  
"Well, I don't think so, young man. You seem to be suffering from some kind of hallucinations. God knows what that machine did to you. Now," she offered a glass of water and a pill to Terry, "take this so that you will become better." Terry lifted his head, and then his body, and sat on the bed. He took the glass of water and pill and obligingly popped the pill in his mouth. No sooner than he had kept his glass of water down on his bedside table than a crash erupted from to his left. The college nurse who was standing to the left of Terry's bed looked around in surprise, followed by Terry's gaze. A fan had ripped itself off from the ceiling and fell point-blank on Nayle's bed ... sans Nayle. The wing door was ajar.  
  
Terry was first to recover from the shock, and he jumped out of his bed and ran out the ajar door into the hall, followed closely by the nurse. Nayle was standing in the hallway, floating a few inches above air. Terry heard a gasp from the nurse behind him. He was surprised himself. A cupboard was in the narrow hallway. Nayle was staring at Terry and the nurse and he fed Terry particularly with a look of loathing. Remaining suspended in air, green particles erupted from his hand and surrounded the cupboard. The green particles first orbited the cupboard, similar to electrons and a nucleus. Then the green parts formed a thin plastic like covering around the cupboard. Nayle raised his arm and the cupboard rose too. Nayle gave a pushing motion to the air, and the cupboard pushed ahead, straight to its target: Terry and the nurse. Everything then seemed to happen in slow motion. In an involuntary motion, Terry raised his hand. The cupboard was coming towards the nurse. Mustering all the effort he could, Terry felt grey particles tear off and leave his hand. They surrounded the plastic film of the cupboard, and just before the cupboard hit the nurse, the cupboard stopped in mid-air, and fell. Not realizing what he had just done, Terry looked at his hand in surprise, while the nurse gave him a mixed look of astonishment and fear, taking in deep breaths due to her narrow escape from imminent death.  
  
Tearing his eyes from his hand, Terry looked back into the hallway. Nayle had disappeared... but the door opening the hallway to the outside courtyard was ajar too. Rushing outside, Terry was just in time to see Nayle cross the main road ahead of the school. Nayle didn't look left or right: not obeying this rule of the road made him overlook the car that was coming towards him. Nayle was running, but the car was faster. Realizing imminent collision, the driver applied the breaks. But it was too late. The effect that followed was curious, not to mention really really freaky and odd. Nayle turned his face, and for the first time, Terry saw it was contorted with fear. For the second time that morning, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The car passed through Nayle, or rather, Nayle stood where he was and like a ghost, passed through the car. As soon as the car left Nayle's body, it crumbled into a luminous green powder, as if Nayle was made of luminous chimney dust, and this green powder lay in a small hill on the road. After a few seconds gap however, the green dust rose up and reassumed Nayle's body shape and outline, and gave rebirth to Nayle. This time, Nayle's face was really really tired, like as if he ran a mile under 3 minutes, and he fainted onto the ground, for the second time in two days.  
  
FEW DAYS LATER RHODE ISLAND HOSPITAL  
  
WARREN  
  
RHODE ISLAND  
  
8:30 PM  
  
Terry entered the spotless white reception hall and asked the lady behind the counter in which room Nayle Northern was kept. Room 295. Taking the stairs to the third floor, Terry glanced through the window embedded in the door. Nayle was lying down on the bed in white pyjamas and was connected to a machine that recorded his pulse and vital signs. Terry opened the door and sat down on a chair beside Nayle. Despite having treated him so bad, Terry still had a soft corner towards Nayle - after all, who won most of the academic prizes for their class? Sitting there and thinking, Terry was jerked back to attention when he noticed something odd. Nayle looked older... his face was beginning to wrinkle, his skin was beginning to wrinkle. As Terry watched in amazement, Nayle progressed from young to old in a matter of minutes. Then the 'ageing' seemed to stop. Terry, curious, stood up and moved closer to Nayle. No sooner had he moved closer than Nayle's body burst into flames. Surprised and scared, Terry watched in fear and amazement as Nayle's body was engulfed in flames. Running out into hall, Terry ran wildly, looking left to right for a nurse. No nurse in sight. Running down the stairs into the reception area, he gasped to the nurse at the reception counter: "Nayle... Northern... body... burning".  
  
Surprised, the nurse asked him to calm down and explain the story. As Terry calmed down, he explained what had happened in the room in the past few minutes, but the nurse looked at him sceptically. A sudden crash from up above caught her attention. Running and climbing up the stairs, the nurse and Terry went in the direction of the noise - Nayle's room. Opening the door, Terry opened the door to see - nothing. Nayle's bed was empty, and no scorch mark left any history of any burning. But Nayle was gone, and a small pyramid of greenish powder was on the bed. The window was broken, as if someone had jumped through. Looking down the window, Terry saw a green trail leading down the wall and onto the hospital compound, and he also saw a figure running away, with an eerie greenish glow.  
  
Terry ran down the stairs and so did the nurse. Going to the area below Nayle's room, Terry followed the trail. The trail led across the compound, across the road in front of the hospital and into a park, where Terry saw a figure jump behind a clump of bushes. Running towards the bushes, Terry saw an eerie green light erupting from the clump of bushes as if something exploded. Stupefied for a moment, Terry regained his composure and ran behind the clump. Behind it was a larger pyramid of green powder, and no Nayle. Holding the green powder in his hands, he felt his hand become cool...  
  
3 HOURS LATER  
  
Terry had left behind the green powder. Now however, it started glowing. After a while, the glowing green powder started rising and swirling in the form of a mini tornado. Particles of green clumped together into bunches of green - bunches into lumps. These lumps finally crashed into each other at one point, and immense green light broke into the night. The lumps had formed a small sphere, which blew up slowly into a big sphere, holding Nayle... 


	11. OOTMUPIQP

CHAPTER 11 – OOTMUPIQP 

**Comments:** It's been 3 months since I last updated to this story!!! I'm reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally sorry! I had exams and lots of co-curricular activities, plus the fact that the Muses didn't visit me quite too often. I hope you haven't forgotten that this story exists! More importantly, I hope you didn't forget the gist of the story. This chapter will reveal some of the most important points that will be used later on in this story. Once again, sorry! Shouts out to ATX, Gothic Spook, Rachael. Hi, gals! Kome on people, review already.

**Disclaimer: **Meanwhile, I've quit the FanFiction network and become a spokesperson for the FBI.

**Story (What are you, Blockheads?):**

JAMESTOWN HOTEL

JAMESTOWN

RHODE ISLAND

11:33 PM

Scully intervened: "Wait, forgive me if I sound sceptic, but how did you know Nayle was to be… erm ... 'reborn' (she made little quotation marks with her fingers) that way?" Scully asked. 

"Erm… good point," Terry said, "It was because of the book I had found the next day."

"Book?"

**CUT TO:**

SCIENCE LABORATORY

WARREN NEWTONIAN MECHANICS COLLEGE

28th APRIL 1984 

9:52 AM

Terry returned to where the catastrophic incident took place. A new door had been fitted in to Room 217, of course, because of the Science Fair, which he missed (Belgire won … beautiful model explaining the application of Einstein's Theory of Relativity in the action of gravity on light). The machine, however, remained, as it was too heavy to move. Once bitten, twice shy, Terry did not venture close to the machine. Instead he looked around the room, and his eyesight focussed on a book on a table close to the machine. On it, in normal Times New Roman font (over a green background), were the words:

THEORY OF MOTONS 

**One of The Most Unexplained Particles in Quantum Physics**

Intrigued, Terry picked up the book, and began to open it to read the first chapter. However, the bell rang and Terry had to go for his next class. He took the book with him out of the bag. He would look at it during lunchtime.

CAFETERIA

WARREN NEWTONIAN MECHANICS COLLEGE

28TH APRIL 1984

12:44 P.M.

After a lunch of Greek salad, a cheeseburger, an egg sandwich and some milk, Terry began to read the book, which he got from Room 217. It was highly interesting.

"CHAPTER ONE: INTRODUCTION TO THE DANGEROUS WORLD OF MOTONS

"I am glad that you are one of the few who have decided to pick up (or buy) and read this book. Motons haven't been intensively studied… they have just been discovered, by me. They are one of the most important particles in our world, though they are not visible, except under special circumstances. Scientists around the world have discounted my theories, but they fail to really understand how important and how dangerous these particles are. In my book, I try to bring out some of the important aspects of motons, and hope to convince many.

"Motons are the basis of motion. They have a momentary existence, almost like free radicals, but not quite. They only exist when a particle is moving, and is the cause for the missing 'unusable' energy. They travel in waves, conforming to de Broglie's Theory of the Wave Nature of Matter, so that it is not matter, which is actually travelling in waves, but the motons themselves. They are normally undetectable because they are really small, but there are ways to detect them. It is not within the scope of this chapter to discuss how. I shall describe them in other chapters. What I hope to warn against other individuals of this planet is how dangerous they can be, in the hands of others.

"All of us have what is known as junk DNA, which is essentially (and probably) extraterrestrial, not yet proved however. This junk DNA is inactive in most of the population, and when active, can produce surprising results. One of the ways this junk DNA can be active is being exposed to an intensive stream of motons. Motons have been seen to activate junk DNA with their 'unusable' energy, which causes the person to himself come under the 'control' of motons, and causes him to emit motons himself. He is then referred to as a Motonist."

The bell then rung, signalling the end of the lunch break. Terry placed the book back in the bag, and went to Optics Class.

JAMESTOWN HOTEL

JAMESTOWN

RHODE ISLAND

11:45 P.M.

"Do you have the book right now?" Mulder asked.

"No, I'm sorry. I had given it to my Optics teacher, after I had finished with it," Terry replied.

"Why?"

"I'll tell you…"

TERRY NELSON'S HOME

28TH APRIL 1984

7:54 P.M.

Terry was on his bed, and the radio was on. He was listening to the local station. They were playing the latest hip-hop tunes. Suddenly, the window in front of his bed shone with green light from outside. Intrigued, he switched the radio off, and made his way toward the window. The view that greeted him outside surprised and shocked him, rather than really greeting him. Nayle was suspended in air, eyes green, engulfed with green mist. He was now advancing toward the window.

"_You've got some thing I is needing._"

Nayle's voice came out, droning, wheezy, making the hair on Terry's back stand. As Nayle advanced, he retreated.

"_You've got some thing I is needing._"

The query repeated, more menacing than the last time. Terry stuttered as he asked, "What?"

No response.

"W-What d-do a-I have that you is … erm … are needing?"

"_You is soon finding out._"

No sooner had Nayle said this then he disappeared in a flash of green light, and this green light changed into a greenish powder, which seemed to blow itself toward the window, pass through the window like it didn't exist, and the powder blew itself into Terry's bag (where he had kept **Theory of Motons**). Terry's bag then opened itself and the aforementioned book came out, swarmed with green powder and green light. 

The entire time Terry looked at the happenings dumbfounded, mouth open. But now, coward by nature though he was, was suddenly engulfed with a surge of sudden courage that he lunged forward, and grabbed the book.

Instantly, grey powder dislodged itself from his hands and surrounded the green particles. As Terry gazed in wonder, the grey particles seemed to absorb and extinguish their green counterparts. A scream seemed to slowly echo out from the book, a long, hollow scream.

Then Terry fell back on to the floor, clutching the book in his hands, breathing hard (as though he had run a mile under 4 minutes).

OPTICS CLASS

WARREN NEWTONIAN MECHANICS COLLEGE

29TH APRIL 1984

Just after the bell rang and their optics teacher assigned them some homework, the Class of '84 filed out singly, leaving a Terry behind fidgeting with the papers on his desk. His experience the previous night was truly horrifying, and it still showed, with the fear in his eyes, and his sweaty palms.

His Optics Teacher noticed how scared Terry looked, and moved over to Terry.

"What's up, Nelson? Why're so upset?"

"Oh … er… n-n-nothing, Sir.. erm.. college and all.. erm.. no-nothing much…", and Terry gave a weak smile.

In his jitteriness, he didn't realize it, but some of the books from his table fell on to the floor below. **Theory of Motons **was one of them.

As the Optics Teacher bent over to help Terry pick up the books ("here, let me do it", "O-o-OK, thanks"), his attention was caught by the book. Swooping it up, he looked at it in surprise. Slowly, this surprise seemed to turn into sadness, as he asked Terry in a blank voice, almost crying: "Where did you find this?"

JAMESTOWN HOTEL

JAMESTOWN

RHODE ISLAND

12:01 AM

"So you're saying that your Optics teacher recognized the book?", Mulder asked, silent all this while.

"Yes."

"What was his name?"

"Oh, I-I'm really sorry I neglected to mention it. His name was James Olzeck."


	12. Recapitulation and Decapitation

**CHAPTER 12 – RECAPITULATION AND DECAPACITATION**

**Description:** Um... forgive me for I know not what I do. It's been a loooong 3 months and so many things have occupied me, I forgot about y'all. Sorry. I know, I know, I keep giving excuses, but happily, a) it's vacation time! b) Inspiration struck me and I know now how to end the story (before, it was just a mixed bunch of paraphernalia), so you can expect faster updates from me. All I can promise is it's a long way towards the end, so I hope you buckle up for the ride and enjoy it too! Oh, and for those of you who have lost track of the story, this chapter is for you...

**Disclaimer:** I don't own The X-Files, I'm lovin' it.

**Story:**

Terry was again running through the forest. A nine-year-old child, running away from a man with a knife. A green-stained knife.

Green? No time to think, he had to save himself. Save himself from the monster that killed his mother. Thoughts directed towards his mother, he did not notice and tripped over a root jutting out through the ground. He began crying, his right knee bleeding. The man stood over him, engulfing him in shadow. Terry screamed as the man lowered the knife, but he began to feel himself being filled with renewed courage. Surrounded by grey particles, he was able to repel the man. How, he did not know. Perhaps the man was scared, or something. Terry felt himself rise above the Earth, and as he looked down, he saw the man being engulfed by silhouettes of policemen. Looking back up, he heard muttering from a distant light above. He reached out...

JAMESTOWN HOTEL

JAMESTOWN

RHODE ISLAND

1st FEBRUARY 1994

10:30 A.M.

Terry opened his eyes to see Mulder and Scully sitting at a table near the window, muttering. Perhaps that was the muttering he had heard. That was the furthest he had gone on such kind of dreams. It was revealing, as humans sometimes forget memories of childhood, as we grow older.

The G-Man and G-Woman, oblivious to their guest's awakening, were discussing the finer, and the more 'supernatural' ('Mulder, there's a scientific explanation for all of this!', 'Yes, it is, Scully, but what _kind _of science are we talking about here?'), aspects of the case.

"OK, Mulder, it's science, agreeable, but it could be pseudo-science. I mean, if this guy has been rejected by the scientific public, means that his theory of 'Motons' (she made quotation marks with her hands) is not credible enough – it's incredible, not to mention unscientific."

"Fine, Scully, let's argue about this later. Meanwhile, let's go over this case once more. Maybe we can find something of use towards this investigation."

"OK. Sure. Whatever."

"Uhh...fine. Well, OK. I called you to my office, because Skinner asked us to investigate this case. A Jachson Welmick died in a 'bus crash' (he made quotation marks too, Scully rolled her eyes), sliced in half. We went to the scene of the crime, and found this greenish powder..."

"...which I had analysed, and found that it contained every element that the human body is made up of – in macro quantities, at least. Then, another murder happened, right?"

"That's right, a Montague Welson. He was chopped and served, to coin a phrase. His body parts were, for some reason, sent to our friend, Terry Nelson here..."

"...who got served body parts and served us an incredible story. Do you actually believe him, Mulder? This story about Nayle Northern, who supposedly died a few years back."

"To be exact, 5 years. It might be reincarnation, I don't know. After that, Timmy Tamura died with his leg torn off. How? We don't know as yet. However, the theory of motons sounds intriguing, it might be true. Anyway, Nayle is the prime suspect here. He was picked on by his classmates, a recluse, and he perfected this machine, that converted him into a Motonist."

"Yeah, right, 'Motonist', Mulder? It might be some cult, you know. We still only rely on Terry as our source. He could have made this all up, since he belongs to the cult himself. Remember that Chinese police official who lied to us in order to save the game-cum-operation going on in Chinatown, San Francisco?"

"W-ell...it might be that, Scully, but according to the book he had read ('Theory of Motons'), motons are particles which are responsible for the wave-like character of matter ('Who's the scientist now, Mulder?', 'Skeptic'), and the 'unused energy' in our surroundings is actually motons. This 'unused energy' activates some junk DNA in all of us."

"So why aren't we going around killing people, Mulder? According to our source, we _all _have junk DNA!"

"I don't know, Scully. Perhaps motons bring out our most inner fears and emotions. Terry said to us himself, that being affected by the ray coming out from the machine that Nayle built for his school's Science Fair (he then stopped to take a breath), his mother's death was brought back to him. Somehow, Motons drive to kill."

"So you're saying that Nayle has an inherent desire to kill. I don't imagine being picked on is a good enough reason to kill."

"That proves my point. Perhaps this internal feeling of hate towards his classmates was brought out and exploded into murderous intentions by motons. But, we have to get our hands on that book, before we can make any more deductions. Anyway, something struck me after we heard Terry's story, and as I was lying on the bed yesterday night..."

"Don't you find it odd, that James Olzeck, Police Inspector, was once a Physics teacher?"

"Well, not much, Scully. Fortunes and the future change. In the end, we all are looking for the truth."

"Don't start with me, Mulder. I just hope that (censored) chain-smoking (censored) has nothing to do with this!"

"Gee, thanks, Scully, for those lovely words of encouragement (for the second time this morning, Scully rolled her eyes). Anyway, as I was saying, I realized this: a: motons are unused energy, b: all the murders have some movement involved with them, and c: motons could be derived from..."

"'motion'? Oh, Mulder..."

But Scully was interrupted by a sound from the bed. As Mulder and Scully turned towards the bed, what they saw surprised them. Terry was engulfed in grey, so that he looked like a character acting on the static black-and-white TVs of yore. He was moving back and forth. Seeing that the agents were looking at him, he whispered:

"He's here. Hide me."

Then, there was knocking on the door. A voice came from the other side: "Agents Mulder and Scully, are you there? I want to report something which might be of interest to you."

Mulder turned to Scully and said, "Quick, Scully, tackle him, while I go hide Nayle." Saying so, he dragged Terry (as his hands passed through the layer of grey, he felt unusually cool) and pushed him below the bed. Terry obliged and crouched below the bed, unaware that as he moved below the bed, some grey particles fell onto the floor. Meanwhile, Mulder drew his gun and stood behind the door as Scully opened it.

"Oh, hello, Agent Scully. Am I glad to see you."

"Hello, Officer Olzeck. What is it that you want?"

"I just want to tell you that Terry Nelson has been reported missing. Have you any idea as to his whereabouts?"

"Well, no, but Agent Mulder and I will stop over by at your office later and we'll discuss things later. Right now, we're involved with... uh, something else."

"Oh, OK, Agent Scully," Olzeck smiled. "I'll be expecting you."

Saying so, he bid goodbye, but not before noticing, as Scully closed the door, that there was a grey residue on the floor near the bed behind Agent Scully. He smiled satisfyingly.

Going down to his car, he told someone in the back seat, "He's there. I'm sure of it".

Nayle, in a voice unlike that he delivered during murders, said in a voice rivaling that of nails on a blackboard, "Well, thank you very much, Officer Olzeck. You served my purpose."

For the first time, fear filled Olzeck's eyes. "Served my purpose? W-what do you mean? Y-you promised y-you wouldn't do anything."

"I did promise, but sometimes commitment is more important than mere promises. I have a cycle to complete."

"Cycle? What cycle?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"I do?" James felt himself being lifted into the air, levitating closer and closer to the roof of the car. "What are you doing to me?"

"Good bye... (Nayle's lips curled into a wicked smile) Dad."

That was the last thing James heard. As soon as his head touched the roof, he was engulfed by green, and his head began a series of bumps against the roof, each bump increasing his magnitude, until finally the metal, and the continuous bumps, cut a hole through his head, causing his head to collapse inwards in a pool of blood.

Nayle, overseeing this gruesome task, waited until the end, then effortlessly, he put his hands together, and suddenly jerked them apart, causing Terry's head to come off from the body, with a Velcro-ic sound.

Disappearing in a green mist, Nayle reappeared in Officer James' office, placed the head on the desk, and disappeared again.

He did not notice the paler version of the head's owner sitting on a chair in the dark recesses of the office, head still attached, smile still on...

* * *

(Author's Note: Small change. I changed Walmick's name into 'Welmick' for reasons you will come to know later on. Thanks to ATX for this chapter idea!)


	13. Two Copies, Not Good

**CHAPTER 13 – TWO COPIES, NOT GOOD**

**Ranting: **One thing you probably might have learnt by now from this story, is that a boy who prefers to pig out in front of Cartoon Network rather than keeping his promises of fresh updates to his very first online story, does not usually keep his promises. Duh. Anyway, here I am, with this fresh chapter. The last half-month has been filled with activities. Before 17th June, I've been rushing to pack for vacation to the Philippines. After 17th June, I've been rushing to finish studying a chapter in Organic Chemistry. Quite peaceful here in the Philippines, you know. R&R please. This is the first chapter I've tried to inject some humour into. Please tell me if it is successful or not.

**Disclaimer: **If The X-Files were Buffy, I hope Giles is Skinner.

**Curious Fact which is not of Much Importance (CFMI): **I contorted Nayle's name from the thingy that you hit into a wall with a hammer.

**Story Begins ... Here:**

OFFICER JAMES OLZECK'S OFFICE

1st FEBRUARY 1994

11:05 A.M.

James remained seated in the chair until Nayle left. Nayle had not noticed that his father had not died, he had been only too happy to realize that he was one victim away from completing his cycle, to live for another 5 years, and then go on another killing spree.

When Nayle disappeared in green mist, James (or rather his faded form) walked to his office desk (floated, actually). Touching the head, his faded form began to dissolve into green mist, and the green mist – as if sucked into a whirlpool – began to be 'sucked' into the head.

The eyes of the decapitated head sprang open, the eyes green. Slowly, out of the neck, the blood globules began transforming into flesh, until the whole base of the neck was covered with flesh. The head upturned, literally standing on itself. Then, the process of reincarnation began.

The neck base began to bubble as if it were hot boiling flesh-coloured liquid. Two of the 'bubbles' began to expand, encompassing the other bubbles, until the bubbles burst and the neck now sported two feet. The feet began to grow out until the head looked like a ball with two hairy brown sticks. The legs continued to move outwards, forming the paunch, the arms, the biceps and finally James.

Now that James had grown back, his head could no longer stand the extra weight, and the torque caused him to fall sideward on the desk. Finally, his eyes stop flashing green. He sat up on the desk and stood up on the floor. Papers from the desk fell to the floor, but James didn't notice as he looked at himself, as new as ever. He winced as he got the feelings of the various parts of his body back. The process was quite painful, he had only done it once before. He then realized that he was naked, not a position for a police officer. Hurrying, he rushed for a change of clothes in a closet in his office. Since his wife died, he had been living in a single small apartment. Sometimes, his work caused him to work late nights. Aware of this, he had kept several police suits in a closet behind an oak-brown door in his office. He quickly slipped into his clothes, his bones still creaking from their first usages.

JAMESTOWN HOTEL

JAMESTOWN

1st FEBRUARY 1994

11:01 A.M.

After Olzeck left, Scully noticed the grey residue on the floor. Moving towards the bed, she picked up the grey residue, and her hand seemed to lose its body temperature. Dropping it, she looked around at Mulder. He was still standing behind the door, gun drawn.

Mulder lowered his gun, placed it in his holster, and moved towards the bed too. He reached under the bed and pulled Terry out. He no longer felt cooler, perhaps because Terry was not covered in grey now. Shivering a little, Terry laid himself on the bed, and covered himself in a warm sky-blue fur blanket. Scully felt his head, and got no indication that he had a cold.

"It's from the excess force my body utilized when it detected Nayle."

"How can your body detect Nayle, Terry?" Mulder asked curiously.

"It's like that. Motonists can detect unmotonables and vice-versa. I'm an unmotonable."

"So, what do these.. uh.. 'unmotonables' do?" Scully said, scepticism still in her voice.

"They're supposed to fight against motonists. You see, motonists are driven by the desires they have at the moment. However, these desires are amplified in their actions. Our duty is to quell these desires and make it easier to kill motonists."

It was as if a light had been flicked on in Mulder's brain. Looking to Scully, he said, "So _that _was why Nayle is killing all his classmates! Since he was picked on most, the resentment in him remained and built to a crescendo when he attained the power of motons!" Saying so, he raised his curled fists high up in the air in a gesture of fulfilment and happiness.

Scully looked at him with a mixed expression of surprise, pity and wonder. "Calm down, Mulder. That still doesn't explain other vital aspects of this case: why he is leaving Terry to be killed later. You told us, didn't you, Terry, that Nayle tied you up?"

"With green ropes."

"Green?"

"That made it easier for me to remove them," Terry said, with a 'duh' element in his voice.

Ignoring this 'duh' element, Scully continued, "Oh. Well, anyway, the key to all of this seems to lie in the book you keep talking to us about. Don't we have a lead, Mulder?"

"Yeah, Scully." Scrounging in his pocket, he realized a crumpled wad of paper that Terry-Nayle gave to him. Smoothening it open, the wad read:

_WELLIS CAMTROPHE_

_555-0659_

"Let's follow this lead after we meet Olzeck, Mulder. He's expecting us," Scully suggested.

"All right, but I don't feel safe leaving Terry around when Nayle is running free. Let's take him with us, Scully. He can stay in the car."

"Right, Mulder, and we can also tell everything we know to Olzeck. Perhaps he still has the book, and can lend it to us for reading."

"Good idea, Agents Mulder and Scully. I haven't finished reading the book myself, due to life commitments. Perhaps we can find some more answers to the questions that lie ahead of us in this case." Terry's voice was uncharacteristically bubbly.

"Terry, stop stealing my dialogue."

GROUND FLOOR

JAMESTOWN HOTEL

1st FEBRUARY 1994

11:32 A.M.

Scully was the first to get off the elevator, and the first to get out of the building. A gust of cold air hit her face and ruffled her silky red hair. She had been inside too long. She wanted to get some fresh ai-y-y-y..

Her sight landed on the damaged car that was once Olzeck's. From her point of view, she noticed that the top of the car was damaged, contusions the shape of semi-spheroids bulging outwards. Mulder and Terry had just come up behind her.

All three ran toward the car. Scully reached there, again, first. Practicing medical autopsy, Scully was not new to distended, disfigured, even dismembered bodies. This was a first time she had seen a decapitated head however. Feeling sick again, she looked at Mulder's and Terry's reactions. Both had the same sick expression as she did. However, Mulder and Scully had witnessed this sort of phenomena – that is why they were on the X-Files. Terry, however, was a newcomer to this. Sickened and disgusted, he backed up, his head began to swoon until Mulder and Scully blurred and faded into black, and Terry's head thudded against the rocky earth.

Blood began to flow from a small wound in Terry's head. Realizing what had just happened, the agents sprung into action. Scully knelt beside Terry, pulling a white handkerchief from her pocket. She folded the handkerchief into 32, and used the resultant cotton pad as a cotton gauze bandage and applied it to the small wound on Terry's head.

Meanwhile, Mulder flipped open his cellphone and dialled _555-5313_.

555-5313

11:34 A.M.

James had just buttoned his shirt up, when his desk phone rung. Reaching for it, he picked it up and said (coughing as his throat muscles began their first actions), "Hello."

"Hello, Officer Olzeck. Are you all right? You sound sick."

"Oh, hi, Agent Mulder. Nothing much, my office is dusty. Why did you call?"

"I would like you to come over to the Jamestown Hotel pronto. There's been another murder."

"OK, Agent Mulder. I will, however, take some time to come there. My car has been stolen."

Looking at the car behind him, Mulder asked, "Is it a Blue GMC Cadillac, Officer?"

"Yes, Agent, how did you know?"

"You could call it intuition. All I know is that your car is right now here containing a dead body."

"Oh. OK, I'll be there in 10 minutes, Agent."

Saying so, James left his office and the precinct. He flagged down a passing taxi.

BESIDE OLZECK'S CAR

11:35 A.M.

"I just called Officer Olzeck, Scully. How's his condition?" Mulder said, nodding towards Nelson.

"Just a mild concussion, Mulder. Apparently, that body caused him to black out. He's still breathing. He's unconscious, he'll be awake in a few hours. Who do you think that body belongs to, Mulder?"

"I was just going to find out, Scully." Saying so, he reached for the door of the car. Opening the door, he looked inside. The body was sprawled on the front seats, blood spilling from its neck on to the seats, skin fibres jutting out stuck together sanguinarily. The body wore a police uniform, which implied it was a policeman who was killed. The entire setup gave a not-so-pleasant smell to the inside of the car. Crinkling his nose, Mulder began searching the pockets of the victim. The front pockets revealed nothing. Turning the body over, he found a wallet inside the back pocket.

4 MINUTES LATER

"But, Mulder, this _couldn't_ be him. It really couldn't. Not unless he has the ability to be in two places at once. He just talked to you on the phone, right? How can he be dead and still talk to you on the phone?"

"That's the important question I think we should ask whoever-is-coming-here, Scully. I think you should look closely at the car, and make some deductions, Scully, because that's what you normally do."

Glaring at him, Scully marched to the car, Mulder close at her heels. Looking at the inside, Mulder pointed the bumps at the top of the car to Scully.

"Notice those, Scully? Notice the red blood lining each of those bumps have. My guess is that before this body was decapitated..."

"...the bumps were caused by the head being hit against the top of the car. The force could have decapitated it."

"Right, Scully. Unless this man was mentally disturbed, this proves my theory that motons control 'motion'. So the culprit must have been..." Mulder's voice trailed off, waiting for Scully to deduce his expected answer.

"Nayle," Scully had scored on this question. Before Mulder could confirm her answer or not, however, a screech behind him told him that Olzeck had arrived. Turning back, he saw Officer Olzeck paying the taxi fare. After paying, Olzeck strode over to where Mulder was standing.

"Good afternoon, Agent Mulder. What brings me here?"

"This, Officer." Saying so, agent led officer to the car and decapitated body. Olzeck put on a face of disgust and wrenched his eyes away. "Any ID on the body?"

"Surprisingly, yes. I found this," Mulder took out the wallet, "And this leads me to one question which I want to ask you."

Olzeck recognized his wallet. Fearful, he tried to put on a face that opposed his feelings, and said, "Shoot."

Opening the wallet, Mulder revealed:

_This wallet belongs to:_

_Name:__ JAMES OLZECK_

_Profession: __Police Officer_

_Address: __75-B Toneltoni St., __Warren__, __Rhode Island__, __U.S.A.___

"Can you tell us, Officer, how we found _your_ body?"


End file.
